Homecoming
by Agora
Summary: Agora goes movieverse! A Wolverine/Rogue story. WIP.
1. Seeing Her Again

Logan maneuvered his bike slowly down Greymalkin Lane, very conscious of the fact the he was approaching the imposing gate of number 1407. It had been over three years since he had left, and he wasn't sure what to expect. He wasn't even sure why he was returning, except that he had promised he would. He sighed, pulling up to the security box in front of the wrought iron mass.  
  
He had spent the last three years chasing ghosts, trying to find clues to his past. His journey had taken him to the other side of the world and back, and frustratingly enough he had very little to show for it. He had sent her postcards from every place he visited, letting her see quaint little pictures of the outside world that, because of her mutation, she had very limited interaction with. Finally, he had run out of leads, run out of destinations.  
  
Except Westchester, New York.  
  
He punched a code into the box and the gates swung open silently. Logan shook his head, a smile fluttering across his lips. He'd have to have a chat with Chuck about changing security codes more frequently.  
  
He pulled his bike up to the side of the enormous main building, near the garages, where he had stolen it from Scott so long ago. He noticed approvingly that One-Eye had at some point replaced it, which meant that maybe this one was really his. Or maybe he could trade it in for the new model. That would really piss the uptight little man off. Another half-smile.  
  
Logan climbed off of his bike and shouldered his bag, shuddering. He convinced himself that he was shaking the dust of the road off, but if he had been honest with himself he would have admitted he was scared. He ran his free hand through his hair and walked with great determination to the door.  
  
Standing on the doorstep, he paused. Knock? Walk right in like you left yesterday? He had never been the best with social interaction. Well, not this kind at least. Coming to a compromise, he knocked twice and then turned the doorknob, swinging the door open slowly. He walked into the kitchen and found... no one. It was empty.  
  
What had he been expecting? He growled at himself, shaking his head. Had he really thought they'd just all be lined up, waiting for him to return? Had he really thought that she would be standing there, look up in surprise, and then run to him, wrapping her arms around him?  
  
Well, he had hoped so at least.  
  
He set his bag down on the kitchen table and started towards the hall.  
  
*Logan, I'm glad to see that you've returned,* a deep, calm voice sounded in his head.  
  
Ah, the telepathic welcome wagon was on duty after all. Logan's face split into yet another small smile. "Hey, Wheels," he said out loud, not quite comfortable with holding an internal dialogue with a man he couldn't see.  
  
*I don't know if I've ever been called the welcome wagon before,* he heard the man laugh, probably mostly in regards to being called 'Wheels' again he would guess. He had to give Chuck credit: for as serious as he was, he still had a sense of humor.  
  
*Your room is as you left it. I would like to speak with you when you have a moment, but I expect that you have more immediate pressing concerns. I believe the person you are looking for is in Ororo's garden.*  
  
The telepathic voice winked out, and Logan turned back to the door he had just come through. If he remembered correctly - which in and of itself was a feat - the garden was behind the garage. He walked quickly now, his impatience building. He pushed aside a stray thought about how the professor had known who he was looking for and walked around the corner of the building.  
  
And there... He stopped short. "Dammit, Chuck, not funny," he growled, his eyes narrowing at what he swore was laughter in his head. There was Scott.  
  
The guy was obviously in on the prank, as he was doubled over laughing.  
  
"Hey, One-Eye. How's it going?" Logan managed, attempting to regain ground.  
  
"Fine," Scott gasped between laughs. "The professor told me you brought my bike back?"  
  
Logan looked down at his feet, scuffing them in the dirt. He was glad everyone else thought this was funny. "Yeah, sure did. But don't get used to it. I'm leaving again soon." He'd show them. He wasn't a joke.  
  
Scott Summers straightened, obviously not expecting this response. He stifled his laughter, meeting Logan's eyes. "You just got here," he said, curiously concerned.  
  
"Yeah, well, I've got some place I have to be," Logan answered shortly, turning away.  
  
"She'll be upset."  
  
Logan stopped. 'She' never needed to be defined to him.  
  
"Where is she?" he asked quietly, not turning around.  
  
"In the conservatory teaching a class."  
  
Logan walked back around the garage towards the door. He stopped in front of his bike, toying with the idea of just running. She'd never know. One-Eye and Chuck would know better than to tell her. It would hurt, not seeing her, but he didn't know why, and he was quite sure that it was better than being the butt of jokes around this freak show of a place.  
  
But his bag was inside. So he'd have to go back in. At least as far as the kitchen. Then he was gone.  
  
He walked inside again, but this time he wasn't alone.   
  
"Logan!" Jean smiled. "It's good to see you," she acknowledged, giving him a loose and - he was careful to notice - safe hug.  
  
"Good to see you too, Red," he responded, smiling despite himself. It was good. He couldn't argue with that. "You look good," he continued. He couldn't argue with that either. Never could.  
  
"Yeah, married life agrees with me," she answered, stepping away from the brief embrace a little self-consciously.  
  
"You mean One-Eye made you an honest woman?" he jested, trying to lighten the air between them.  
  
"You know he doesn't like it when you call him that," Jean countered, resting her hands on her hips somewhat defensively.  
  
"Calm down there, Fire. No need to break out the hose," he laughed. "Congratulations, Jeannie. I hope you're happy," he finished more seriously, surprising himself even by meaning it.  
  
"I am. Thank you, Logan."  
  
He left the kitchen, feeling better. Still leaving, he cautioned himself, but better. Just a peek, that's all he was going to take. Then he'd be gone again.  
  
He reached the conservatory, which still doubled as a classroom, and peered through the window. His breath caught in his throat. She was there. He only realized that he had forgotten to breathe when a single bell rang and students began filing out of the nearby door. She was bent over her desk, arranging a pile of papers. She was like an angel. A very deadly angel, granted, but an angel nonetheless.   
  
He shifted his weight, and the movement caught her eye. She looked up, searching out the motion, eyes widening with recognition. Those eyes. He suddenly felt like an ass. Here he was, three years later. An ass. A smile touched her angelic face and she walked towards the door. Walked? Floated. An angel. He felt like an ass. Marie... 


	2. Avoiding Him

Logan. She couldn't believe her eyes. He was here. He was really here. What should she say? How should she act? How is one supposed to act? Her instincts told her to run to him. Her instincts told her to not let go again. What she considered to be the logical part of her, however, thought that was a little extreme. So instead she crossed the room, a smile lighting up her face. She couldn't help but smile. He'd returned.  
  
"Hey, sugar," she managed, a little shyly. "Glad you made it home in one piece." Is there something else she could say? Something that would make everything just like it was yesterday? But no, she didn't really want that. She didn't want to be his little girl anymore. Had she ever? She thought back to the first time she had seen him in Laughlin City. Nope, not even then. She closed her eyes for a moment, remembering the childish thrill she had had, scared of it, as she watched him almost kill a man in that cage. She opened her eyes. He was still there, and he was saying something. Shit. She should be listening, not daydreaming. Daydreaming was for when he wasn't here. He was here.  
  
"Well, I promised you I would, Marie."  
  
He said it like it was the simplest thing in the world. Her name. It sounded sweet on his lips. No one ever called her Marie.  
  
"I knew you would," she smiled. Well, she had hoped at least. Same thing. "How was your trip?" Trip. A trip wasn't three years. Trip. She sounded like an idiot.  
  
"Unproductive," he grunted. Same old Logan. "You finished here, kid?"  
  
Kid? She let out a sigh of disappointment. She was still a kid to him. Why had she thought it would be different?  
  
"Yeah, I am," she replied, the double-entendre making her wince. "I'm done." Her smile fell a touch.  
  
He looked at her face and then suddenly pulled her against his body, hugging her close. "I missed you, Marie," he murmured into her hair, so quietly that she probably wouldn't have heard it if her own senses hadn't been enhanced by her previous interactions with him.  
  
"I missed you too, Logan."  
  
They stood like that in the hallway for what seemed like forever, but probably wasn't even a minute. She didn't want to let go, and he didn't seem to mind, at least. He probably had missed her. Just not the way she wanted him to. Her eyes teared up at that. Really, what had she expected?  
  
She broke away suddenly. If she hadn't, she would have made an ass of herself. It had been very hard to even stand there that long completely still, not moving, even though all she wanted to do was move closer.  
  
"So I have to go by the Professor's office now," she started, a little clumsily, slowly backing away from him but unable to break her eyes from his. "Maybe we can catch up later?"  
  
"Yeah, that'd be nice, darlin'," he answered quietly. "How will I find you?"  
  
"Just ask. When there's a girl around who can kill you with a brush of her arm, everyone seems to keep track of where she is." She had meant it as a joke, but by his crinkled eyebrows he didn't seem to take it that way. "See yah," she finished lamely, finally turning in time to avoid backing into the wall.  
  
She didn't walk to the Professor's office. She had lied about that. As soon as she rounded the corner, she moved towards the stairs, towards her bedroom, towards safety. Where she could imagine that had never happened. Or better yet, imagine it like it should have been.  
  
She closed the door behind her and crumbled to the floor, her tears now falling freely. "Hey, sugar. Glad you made it home in one piece," she mimicked herself in a squeaky voice. "Glad you had a reason to come by. Probably just wanted to see Jean. Don't mind me, I'm just a kid."  
  
She leaned back against the closed door and just sat there.  
  
She didn't realize she had fallen asleep until something hit her. Well, okay, it was the door, and she was in front of it she admitted, grumbling as she came awake.   
  
"Rogue? Where are... Oh. What are you doing down there?" Jubilee asked, pushing the door open enough to stick her head into the room.   
  
"Uh, just doing some yoga," Rogue replied, reaching for something. She attempted to make her answer look more believable by moving into a pose.  
  
"Right. Whatever, Stripe. Move and let me into the room," Jubilee said, shaking her head. "I don't know what you're doing, but guess what?" she finished, her pitch rising with excitement.  
  
"What?" Rogue asked flatly, picking herself up off the floor to stare at her friend. Whatever this was, it better be good. She was in the middle of moping.  
  
"Wolfman is back!" Jubilee announced profoundly, as though waiting for a reaction.  
  
Wolfman? Oh. Him. "Wolverine?"  
  
"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Anyway, he's here! Aren't you excited?" her friend smiled, almost hopping up and down.  
  
"I already saw him," Rogue answered, moving towards her closet.  
  
"And?"  
  
"And what? I saw him," Rogue finished tersely. "Was the world supposed to stop spinning or something? I must have missed it." She began idly thumbing through her clothes.  
  
Jubilee cocked her head to the side. "You mean to tell me this man that you've been blabbering about for as long as I've known you has come back to you and now you don't want him? You'd better have a really good excuse really quickly or else I'll paf you just for making me listen to you whine all this time."  
  
Rogue turned her back to her friend, but Jubilee didn't move to leave. So much for out of sight, out of mind. "He doesn't want me," she said quietly, not trusting herself to turn around.  
  
"What?" Jubilee's face had contorted as her pitch rose again, this time twinged with rage. She turned her roommate to face her. Rogue winced, stepping back. She hated it when Jubes got shrieky. "That bastard! I don't care if he does look like a short bear with an attitude, I'll paf him to kingdom come!"  
  
"Jube, calm down," Rogue muttered. "It's not the end of the world. He came to see me. It's just... not like that."  
  
"Oh."  
  
For almost thirty seconds, Rogue thought she had won. She should have known better.  
  
"Nope," Jubilee started, causing Rogue to groan in frustration. "We just need to approach the problem from a different angle. How could anyone not want you?" she asked, her smile and cheerful demeanor returning as suddenly as they had departed.   
  
"How could anyone want me?" Rogue cried. "I'm not even twenty years old, and I can kill you!"  
  
"You know, I once thought the same thing about myself. Duh, Rogue. We're not normal. It doesn't mean we're not worthy. Here," she said, pushing her way into her friend's closet, "let's pick out the right outfit."  
  
"The right outfit?" Rogue replied incredulously. "How the hell is an outfit going to change anything?"  
  
"It's all about the little things, hon," Jubilee answered and began flinging clothes over her shoulder. "Here, put these pants on," she said, offering a pair of hip-hugging jeans.  
  
"Those are yours," Rogue protested.  
  
"So? We share a closet, don't we? We always share clothes," Jubilee dismissed.  
  
"No," Rogue corrected, "you wear my clothes."  
  
"Just put them on and shut up," Jubes instructed, her head back in the closet. She pulled out a shirt, flipping it over her shoulder. "Next!"  
  
"I can't wear that!" Rogue exclaimed, looking at the green suede halter-top that she had just caught. "I'll scare people!"  
  
"No, you won't. Besides, everyone knows that you can control it when you want to," she added, moving towards shoes.  
  
"They do?" she started in shock. Nobody knew yet except Hank and the Professor. She still wasn't comfortable with her control level, and she didn't want someone accidentally touching her when she wasn't prepared.  
  
"Well, yeah," Jubilee said, looking away sheepishly. "I was talking to Jean the other day and she mentioned it and..."  
  
"Jean? How did..."  
  
"Well, apparently you were projecting quite loudly the day you found out, and she just couldn't help it. She assumed that you had told me," she said, as though it explained everything.  
  
"So...how did everyone else find out?" Rogue asked, puzzled, trying to make the leap in logic.  
  
"Oh, that?" Jubilee began, taking a deep breath. Uh-oh. Bad sign. "Well, I mentioned it to Kitty, only because I was so excited, and told her to keep it a secret, but I didn't see Bobby behind me. I threatened Popsicle Boy, but he obviously didn't listen, because he went and told Scooter, but he apparently already knew from Jean, and I just felt sorry for 'Ro because everyone knew and she didn't, so I told her, too." Again, Jubilee seemed to think that had explained it all. She held out a pair of sandals.  
  
Rogue narrowed her eyes, but then decided it was useless. She took the sandals and moved to her dresser, where she had a pair of green gloves that matched the top perfectly. She reached for a scarf, only to be dragged away by Jubilee.  
  
"Nuh-uh, sister. Gloves are cool, but the scarf will bring in the fashion police. Not with that outfit. Now get dressed and come on. It's almost dinner time."  
  
A half-hour and seemingly eighty more Jubilee Fashion Tips later, she was walking downstairs. She felt naked. It was fun, in a dangerous sort of way.   
  
She stood in the dining room entrance and looked around. Shit. She had almost forgotten all about him. There he was, sitting on the far side of the room with 'Ro, deep in a conversation. He raised his head, nostrils flaring, and a pained look crossed his face as his eyes met hers. Ororo smiled, kissed him on the cheek, speaking low and close to his ear. He managed a half-smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, not even bothering to look at Ororo as she stood and walked away. He was still staring at her, and his eyes were darkening.  
  
Shit. Shit. Shit. He hated her. How else could he look at her like that?  
  
She was frozen in the doorway and couldn't move. Then she felt a hand touch the bare skin in the small of her back, shoving her into the room. She screamed.  
  
"Chill, dude, you were blocking the food," Jubilee muttered in an embarrassed tone, trying to slink away as all eyes turned to them.  
  
Rogue panicked, tears coming to her eyes. Someone had touched her. It wasn't the end of the world, not tonight, but it was her worst nightmare and sweetest dream, all rolled into one, played out live in front of more than half of the inhabitants of the mansion. In stereo.  
  
And then he was in front of her, pain and dark stares replaced by worry.  
  
"Marie?" 


	3. Losing Myself in Her

"Logan..." She almost crumpled into his arms. Well, that can't be a bad sign. Then again, she was upset. Don't take advantage of your friend when she's upset. There must be a 'social interaction' rule that said something like that.  
  
"Baby, what is it?" he asked, guiding her out of the dining room towards an alcove in the hall.  
  
He shook his head as he pushed her towards a bench. He really needed to be careful with those terms of endearment. He didn't want to alienate her.  
  
It was almost time to go. He could feel it. There was only so much more of this torture that he could endure before he lost all control. The fact that she had walked in when he was in the middle of uncharacteristically pouring his heart out to Ororo only made it worse. She looked... God, she looked like heaven. He bet she tasted like sin. Logan closed his eyes, pushing those thoughts away. Cold shower, then hit the road.  
  
Maybe two cold showers, he admitted as he opened his eyes. She was sitting on the bench in front of him, crying, and all he could think of was kissing their salty sweetness away. Christ, he was evil. It was Marie, for fuck's sake. Little girl. Hello?  
  
This logic made no difference, as she was very obviously a woman in Logan's eyes. All the more reason to get the hell out. But for now, he had to make her stop crying.  
  
"Baby, what's wrong?" he asked, his voice coming out throaty and low despite his best intentions. Damn; he had called her baby again. He took a deep breath and sat next to her, taking one of her gloved hands into his. "What's wrong, Marie?"  
  
Her eyes fluttered, wet with teardrops, like little drops of dew on the grass. "I'm sorry, sugar," she managed, running the back of her free hand across her eyes to dry them. "I'm just not used to being touched. That was the first time outside of the lab, and I forgot, and, well..."  
  
She drifted off, burying her head against Logan's chest. He made what he imagined to be calming noises, rubbing the back of her head against her hair.  
  
Abruptly, he broke away. "Touched?" he asked, seeking confirmation in her deep, brown eyes.  
  
He saw his own gaze reflected within her still-glassy eyes, and marked the small, slow nod of her head. He closed his eyes again, breath shaking, pulling her towards him, hands cautiously moving towards the open area on her back. "Can I...?" he asked huskily, unable to help himself.  
  
Again, the head nod. He could feel it against his chest. His hands slid onto the soft skin on her back, and forced himself to breathe. He had to maintain control. She was vulnerable right now, and he couldn't...  
  
Thoughts were broken by a low, whispered moan. "Please, Logan," she gasped, her head lifting from his chest as she leaned closer.  
  
She smelled like Marie. Vanilla, lilac, innocence. She smelled aroused as well. Probably just from all of the excitement. Being touched. Control. Control. Hockey is good. Scott's new bike was, too.  
  
"I'm sorry, sugar, but I have to," she whispered, moving her mouth towards his. Her lips raked across his and he could feel the control slipping. Hockey. Marie's mouth now covered his, moist and inviting. Bike. Her tongue flickered across his lips, and his mouth slipped open, letting her in. Hock... Hockey be damned. He wrapped his arms tighter around her, crushing her to him, losing himself in her mouth.  
  
He broke away, breathing raggedly, voice breaking. "Marie..." 


	4. Running from Him

"Logan!" Rogue broke away suddenly. "I'm so sorry. I just..." She trailed off, not knowing what to say. What could she say? He was trying to be nice, and she screwed it all up because she couldn't control herself. Barely registering the confused look he was giving her, she ran.  
  
Rogue found herself in the yard, by a large oak tree. She sat down with her back against the tree and let tears run freely down her face. How could she have done that? In what universe was that an okay thing to do? She shouldn't be allowed out of the lab. If she wasn't draining people of their life, she was taking liberties with her actions as though her tactile deprivation entitled her to be able to do what ever she wanted. And now she had forced herself on one of her best friends... He must think her vile and disgusting now. She wasn't even sure if she could look at him. She choked back a final sob, one hand rubbing at her eyes while the other pushed her body off of the ground.  
  
She wanted to run, but didn't know where to run to. She settled for walking around the grounds of the mansion, hoping she could sneak into bed in a bit without seeing anyone.  
  
Within an hour, she had pretty much covered the entire yard, from boathouse by the pond to the large meadow out by the road on the other side of the forest. She had circled back around and had just settled under the tree again when a voice called out from the twilight.   
  
"'S that you, Marie?" it called, seeming closer every syllable. Shit. He was looking for her. Probably to give her the 'we can only be friends' lecture. As though she really needed to hear that. She looked around frantically for a place to hide. Why couldn't she have accidentally bumped into that Richards woman who visited the professor every now and then with that scientist guy? Invisibility would be a handy power to have right now. She did the next best thing and dragged herself into the tree, hoping that his senses wouldn't be able to track her up into the branches.  
  
"Marie?" The voice halted beneath the branches. "Darlin', I can't make you come down, but I think they heard you climbing into that tree in Canada." He paused, as though waiting for an answer, but Marie held her silence.  
  
"I can smell your fear. I don't want you to be scared of me, Marie. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to... I mean, I meant to, but not... Ah, fuck. I'm sorry, Marie. I'll be gone in the morning. The last thing I wanted to do was upset you."  
  
No! He couldn't leave again. Couldn't leave her alone again. No! No! No! The word echoed through her head. She didn't even process the majority of what he had said, simply that he was leaving. He couldn't leave. No! She would behave. She would be a good girl. Just please don't go. Please don't leave me Logan!  
  
His voice trailed off as his body turned away from the branch where she sat, heading back towards the house.  
  
"Goodbye, Marie. 


	5. Scared of Her

"Please don't leave me, Logan," he heard, barely a whisper but more than enough for his sensitive ears.  
  
He turned back to the tree, feeling quite like someone's hand was firmly wrapped around his heart and was forcibly guiding him. "Baby, I have to go. I think we both know that I have to go."   
  
He shut his eyes, a wave of nausea rolling over him. 'How do normal people get through it all?' he wondered for the umpteenth time in his life. His heart was beating a thousand times a minute; his breathing was short. He could feel what felt like a white light at the base of his skull, so comfortable and easy. So easy to let go.  
  
His eyes snapped open and he regained control. Funny how people thought that he was succumbing to violence or losing a fight when the beast took him. No, he was succumbing to the part of him that was not him. It was easy. It seduced him. All he had to do was relax.  
  
But not this time. Letting go in a situation like this would only mean one thing, which would not be a good thing for Marie, or for himself once the rest of them got a hold of him, that was for sure.  
  
Marie dropped out of the tree in front of him with cat-like grace. 'Where had she learned to do that?' he wondered, unable to keep himself from appreciating her lithe curves. Not good for the control, of course. He gulped a breath of air, pushing his instincts down.  
  
"Logan, I'm sorry. I had no right to treat you like that. It won't happen again. Just please... please don't leave me."  
  
Had he heard her correctly? *She* was apologizing? What a twisted world. Someone had screwed with her head big time, and he was afraid that that someone was him. There she was, staring at him and chewing on her lip like she did when she was nervous. She wasn't safe with him around.  
  
"Please?" she pleaded, her big saucer-like eyes filling anew with tears. It took a moment to realize that she was asking him a question. How in the hell could he tell her no? Maybe he could just delay it and then sneak out when she wasn't looking.  
  
"Alright, I'll stay for a bit. For you, Marie." 


End file.
